


Rules and Hearts (Meant to be Broken)

by flaface



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Bottom Jim, Bottom Kirk, Dirty Talk, Explicit Language, M/M, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-15 23:01:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12330594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaface/pseuds/flaface
Summary: After Jim breaks his heart, Bones gives himself a set of rules to keep from letting Jim hurt him anymore. Heavily inspired by the song New Rules by Dua Lipa: “But my love, he doesn’t love me, so I tell myself.”





	Rules and Hearts (Meant to be Broken)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first published Star Trek fic! I own nothing, but I hope you enjoy what came to mind when I was listening to "New Rules" by Dua Lipa.

_One, don’t pick up the phone. You know he’s only calling cause he’s drunk and alone._

 

            Leonard’s first mistake was breaking Rule #1. He knew he shouldn’t have answered his phone; the problem was a momentary lapse of judgement as the once familiar name appeared on his caller ID. The sight of the name “Jim” lighting up his phone made Leonard’s stomach flip over. For a moment, it was as if no time had passed since things were good, as if nothing had ever gone wrong. But as soon as he answered with a gruff “Hello,” and heard Jim’s greetingless reply, he knew he had not done the right thing. After each of The Rules were broken, Len grew more and more powerless to resist Jim’s advances.

            He had first established his personal Jim-proof rulebook the morning after the _first_ post-break up booty call. He had fallen for it that time, done everything wrong, played right into his ex-boyfriend’s hands. And yeah, it had felt pretty great at the time-- angry passion, forbidden lust, that dirty rush of fucking someone he wasn’t supposed to, fucking someone he shouldn’t still love, someone that he was supposed to be getting over. Once every trace of Jim’s presence and their night together was gone, Len pulled a piece of paper out of a journal, and compiled The Rules, guidelines to not let himself be fooled again. And after contemplation and a couple rough drafts, he wrote one, two, three, four. Len told himself this would work, that this was a sign of growth. Hell, his therapist might be proud, if he worked up the guts to tell her and hold himself more accountable to follow them.   

            From the first sign of Jim’s breathing over the line, Len knew he was surely drunk. It was a Saturday night, but only 1am. Early, by Jim’s standard weekend schedule, as Len remembered it.

            “Booones,” Jim’s voice drew out the nickname lowly, and a chill ran down Len’s spine.

            _No, McCoy. Hang up on that kid right the fuck now. You’re better than being Jim’s last choice, then letting him prove he still has enough control over you  to break you down… You can still recover. Tell him to get fucked… No, not by_ you.

            “What is it?” Len spat, but it didn’t come off quite as mean as he had meant it to.

            “I’m booored.”

            “You’re drunk.”

            “I left the bar.”

            Len heard the sound of cars rushing past on Jim’s end of the line.

            “Where the hell are ya?” He couldn’t help the concern in his voice that he was sure Jim probably picked up on.

            “Some overpass.”

            “For fuck’s sake, kid, you got a death wish?”

            A pause. “Nah, not really. Well… I was hoping for a little death tonight, I suppose.”

            Len had a moment to process his meaning-- then recalling a course on Romantic poetry, and was it Donne who had referred to orgasm in such a macabre way? What a way to make a drunken come on, but then again, Jim had always been too smart for his own good. And he had always let it show in the strangest ways, at the oddest times. Len opted to ignore the reference, though his long pause probably gave away his understanding.

            “Why are you calling _me_ of _all_ people. Jim, go find some pretty young thing, I thought you were supposed to be good at that.”

            “I don’t want any--” Jim began. And Len didn’t want to hear it, so he cut Jim off.

            “I don’t need this tonight.” Len complained.

            “I think I could prove you wrong on that count. I know a thing or two you might need…”

            Len tried to tune him out, tried to keep the memories Jim’s sultry tone recalled from resurfacing.

            “You had your chance, to give me what I need. I see what you’re doing. It’s not clever.”

            “Never said I was being clever,” Jim said, apparently growing irritated. “Thought you appreciated the straight-forward approach.”

            “What’s straight-forward about drunkenly dialing your _ex-boyfriend_ while you meander through traffic, taking your life in your hands.”

            Jim had the nerve to _laugh_ , and Len was too surprised to know how to respond. So he waited, and after his laughter dissipated, Jim said, all too fondly, “I missed you, Bones. I really don’t believe anyone else has ever cared for my well-being so much, even though you get so angry.” Jim continued speaking, but Len couldn’t hear him over the sound of speeding traffic. _Jesus._ This was a perfect chance to end the conversation. And then Jim’s voice became clear again, “....just you. Cause only you can give it to me. Bones…” he trailed off, breathing heavily into the receiver. And for nearly a minute it was just this noise, and the sound of Bones own exhales.

            “No matter what or who I do, I can’t make myself forget what it feels like to fuck you. Fuck, I wanna ride you, McCoy. Make you forget your name, hell and mine too. And then I can let you be. You can pretend I’m not me, that I’m, uh, anyone…”

            Ha, like that would help Len at all, to fuck Jim but pretend he was someone else… then what would be the point?

            “No.”

            “You don’t want to fuck?” Jim asked bluntly, as directly as ever. And the expectation in his tone was painful.

            Len nearly blushed, even though he was alone in his apartment, and there was likely no one that heard that on Jim’s side either.

            “I don’t wanna pretend.” Len answered, cryptically. And then he finally hung up the call, before Jim could reply.

Len knew he still loved Jim, god help him, he knew. He thought he’d made some progress, but here he was again… falling apart because of one fucking phone call. Why the fuck did he answer the phone to begin with? He couldn’t stand to be Jim’s booty call, or his ex, or his hatefuck that _always_ came when he called. What he wanted was much more than that. Something like what they used to be, but with more honestly… with Jim trying just as hard to make it work as he did for once, to make it work. But since the breakup, he had taken whatever he could get, even if he felt weak when he thought about it afterwards, felt like Jim had him wrapped around his little finger. Even if they had nothing shared but physical contact, that was at least enough that Len could kinda pretend Jim really loved him back… pretend that Jim gave enough a damn about Len to win him back and fight for him. But Len knew he’d never be that lucky. He _knew_ , so he told himself, that Jim wasn’t in love with him, maybe not anymore, maybe he never had been. Maybe he just wasn’t the type of guy to fall in love. Maybe he just thought the sex was great, and since they were friends, accepted Len’s romantic advances, played along… that probably made the most sense, Len had decided. But now they weren’t even friends anymore, let alone lovers. Now they were a rare phone call and rendezvous…

            But this night, Len had hung up on him. That was probably rude enough to deter Kirk, right? Then again, when the kid had his mind set on some objective… well there was hardly any going around it. Not for Len, at least. But Len had always bent to Jim’s will. Even if he covered it up in complaints and insults, Len knew that Jim’s will was his weakness and he was sure Jim knew it too. Len must be crazy, out of his entire fucking mind, to even consider giving into Jim again. But hell, what was once more? He had already degraded himself enough… and he couldn’t bear to let Jim go without savoring how it felt to touch him, hold him, have him one more time. Could this be his last binge, before he went cold turkey-- for good? Even if Jim never called back to break Len down further tonight, there would probably be another chance another weekend for a farewell fuck.

            God, this was pathetic. And he thought he could fall no further after how utterly horrifically everything had ended with Jocelyn. Little had he known, he would reach new lows.

            No phone call came. Len grew tired, bored, and filled the time with continuous self-deprecating thoughts. He was ashamed to admit to himself that he was disappointed. He had been excited to follow more of the train wreck that was a sloshed Jim.

            Rule #2 was not yet broken, however. This may have been the fastest Len had let himself begin to hope for Jim’s presence since he had instituted the rules. He hadn’t even yet encountered the immediate temptation that Rule 2 required one to resist:

 

_Two, don't let him in. You have to kick him out again._

 

            Len didn’t have to let him in… but if Jim did happen to show up and bang on his door, well the voice alone might be enough to get Len’s dick hard again. Jim’s dirty talk on the phone had before, not that Jim would ever need to know that, but Len had already softened, as sexual fantasy gave way to anxiety.

            “You don’t need him,” Len murmured to himself, out loud. “There’s no reason to let him in. It’s not like you can let him stay… or make him stay....” And why should the bum linger in Len’s place, anyway, with no intention of properly caring for his damaged, greedy heart. Len had moved apartments after the breakup, as it had been home to too many bad memories. This space was already haunted with memories of encounters with Jim as well. Though they were painful, they were not quite as overwhelming as if Len had still lived where he had fallen in love with him.

            Len picked up his phone, to distract himself, only to see a missed call from Jim. Timestamped at four whole minutes earlier. How had he missed that?

            “ _Shit_ ,” Len swore, clenching a fist as he pondered what action to take. He had missed the opportunity he had been hoping for? Did he dare return the call? And reveal how badly he really wanted it, basically admit to Jim how much power he held over Len’s actions?

            He didn’t have a chance to make a decision. A knock on the door jolted him from his dilemma, and he _knew_ it wasn’t a coincidence, knew it couldn’t be a neighbor or anyone else.

            “Bones? Let me in!” Jim called, sounding somewhat less drunk than before. Len knew he should be thankful that he wasn’t pounding on the door this time, he didn’t need the people on his floor giving him _those_ looks again.

            Breaking Rule 2 was easier than ever: Len felt like he moved on autopilot towards the door, unlocking it, pulling it open… and Jim had apparently been leaning on the other side of it, as he fell onto Len’s foyer.

            “Graceful,” Len said with snark.

            “I thought you would catch me,” Jim retorted, with a childish frown.

            “Ain’t your babysitter, kid.”

            “Ooh, but I wish you had been,” Jim said, gazing up Len’s body hungrily. “Bones the babysitter,” he laughed far harder than Len thought was warranted.

            “What the hell are you doing here, kid? Did you walk? Are you fucking insane?!”

            “I got an Uber,” Jim scoffed, reaching out for a hand to help him up.

            Len hesitated, and then helped lift up the other.

            “You drunk?” Jim asked quickly.

            “Uh no, not really.”

            “Well where’s the fun of that,” Jim said mischievously. As always, he made himself at home, tossing his bag on a chair and raiding the liquor cabinet-- Of course he remembered where Len’s liquor cabinet was. Of course he did.

            “You don’t have any vodka?”

            “You know I’ve never been a vodka guy. I just kept it around for-uh-”

            “For me?” Jim seemed touched. It made him look ridiculously stupid. Then he seemed to realize the implications of Len no longer keeping it around. “Why haven’t you kicked me out yet?” Jim asked.

            “Don’t wanna cause a scene for the neighbors at _two in the morning_.”

            “Mr. Sensitive…” Jim joked. The familiar nickname made Len want to hit him. “C’mon,” Jim brandished Len’s most expensive bottle of bourbon (a gift from Bones’ chief of staff) and two glasses. “Where to?” Jim wriggled his eyebrows.

            “The couch,” Bones said grumpily.  
            Jim shrugged, “Suits me.” He set the drinks down, and wiggled out of his jacket, letting it fall on the floor, not bothering to pick it up before plopping his ass down in the middle of the couch. So Bones either had to stand, or pick a side. He chose option 3-- shove Jim over to one side. Jim of course, was not this easily placated. He turned and propped his legs over Len’s lap, leaning his head on the arm of the couch, smiling.

            Jim grabbed his drink, raised it, “Cheers?”

            “To what?” Len grumbled.

            “To, uh, your hospitality.”

            Len shook his head, taking a drink without clinking their glasses.

            Jim rolled his eyes and proceeded to chug a double shot of bourbon.

            “Jesus, kid. Doesn’t look like you need any more booze.”

            “Do try and catch up.”

            Len didn’t exactly _try_ to catch up. But his nerves were grating on him, and he tossed back enough drinks that he lost count, over heated glances and bursts of conversation.

_  
Three, don't be his friend. You know you're gonna wake up in his bed in the morning_

 

            Some of their exchanges felt like old times, before Len’s heart had gotten in the way of their friendship, reminiscent of a time when they were merely roommates and budding friends. And some of their exchanges felt more tense, what with Len’s coldness and Jim’s playboy persona. Len had come to accept that who Jim was at times like this must be who Jim really was, not realizing that they both wore callous masks.

            After a rather long lull in the conversation, and Len was dizzy enough from the alcohol that he disregarded better judgement entirely, he asked bluntly: “What are you doing here?”

            “I think you know,” Jim replied confidently, eyes sparkling as he rose his eyebrows.

            “Can't be up to no good,” Len muttered, half to himself.

            “Ha. Never claimed to be a good guy, Bones . Can't say I ever did…”

            “What’s your offer?”

            “Uh… offer?”

            “Why should I let you stay here?”

            Jim grinned wickedly. “You just wanna hear me talk dirty, doncha?”

            “Wanna evaluate my options. You oughta be evaluating yours.”

            “The thing is... “ Jim started slowly. “You. I don’t think i gotta describe what i wanna do to you anymore…. Think your memory should serve that function well enough.”

            “You fuckin brat, you egomaniac… little bitch.”

            “My ego isn't the only thing I’m gonna be stroking tonight.”

            “You fucking---” that’s when Len couldn’t stand it anymore. He grabbed Jim’s collar roughly, looked him square in the eye. “You gonna put out, or you just all talk?” though his voice was rough, Len was struggling to maintain control of the situation.

            Jim smirked, clearly smug, clearly sure he was getting his way.

            “Awfully impatient, Bonesy. But i can't blame you…. Who doesn't want a piece of my ass… and you already know how, uh, talented I am.” Jim adjusted himself so his legs straddled Len on the couch, and he began to grind his hips over and into Len. Len quickly became lost in the sensation of Jim’s bulge sliding against his own, in Jim’s familiar scent and touch… And then a moment of clarity, as Jim bit him on the neck, lead to a demand. “Take off those clothes, and get your ass in the bedroom.” Jim didn’t quip this time, just undressed and relocated, as he was told.

            Neither climbed on the bed at first, in a kind of detente- a competition over who would dictate how this went. Jim was the first to relent, facing Len and swiftly lowering himself to a kneeling position. As if he was worshiping. And he took Len’s thick, pulsing cock in in his hand, guided it between his lips. Len had trouble keeping upright, as Jim seemed to work extra hard at licking and sucking all the best places in all the best ways.

            “Where’d you learn to suck dick like this?” Len nearly growled.

            “Well y’know what the say, practice makes perfect,” Jim said happily as he paused to breathe, unobstructed. “Lay back. I’ll do better at that angle.”

            Len rose a skeptical eyebrow, but he found himself giving in to Jim’s touch, as Jim pushed him back onto the bed and spread his legs. “Yeah, just like…” Jim muttered absentmindedly, diving down to continue to suck his cock. A hand reached out to tease his balls, and Len shook involuntarily. He reached down to grab Jim’s shoulders, shove his cock further into the other man’s mouth, his obscenely soft throat...

            Jim made him weak, and Len hated him for it. As Len felt Jim swallow around his cock, his fingernails dug into Jim’s shoulders hard enough to leave marks, and he muttered, “I hate you so much.”

            To Len’s displeasure, Jim then released Len from his mouth, and looked up. Precum dripping from his lip, he was a filthy, sexy image. “No you don’t, you grumpy old bastard.”

            “For fuck’s sake. Shut up! Either do the only thing you’re good for or get out. **”**

“Feisty,” Jim commented, fingering at Len’s foreskin.

            Len knew he was at Jim’s mercy, but he refused to let it show. Jim should have lost his privilege to banter when he decided Len wasn’t worth being with. Len wanted to hurt him and fuck him, but he wasn’t in control. As long as Jim straddled him, hands working on his cock, he was relatively powerless.

            Jim then spoke lowly, “I want your cock. I wanna feel it fill me up and tear me apart. Wanna fucking ride you til you’re sore, collect every last drop you spill inside of me.”

            “Then do it, you fucking tease.”

            “I’m a lot of things, Bones, but I’m no tease,” Jim rebutted, throwing his head back and laughing. Jim’s back curved and his hips jutted forward, his cock jutting forward under cotton underwear, pressing against Len’s, already wet and sensitive.

            “Then take off your fucking underwear.”

            Jim laughed again, and re-positioned, leaning over Len as he put his weight on his knees and pulled down his underwear. Their faces were close, Len felt warm breath on his face. “No kissing” wasn’t one of The Rules, but tonight, more than ever, Len told himself it would be too much, completely inappropriate. Jim hadn’t push against this barrier yet, and Len wondered if that meant he had been the only one of them to ever care about the kissing.. No, that didn’t seem accurate, as far as he could remember. Jim had been a good kisser, a practiced one and dirty one as well.

            Len didn’t even realize what was happening until Jim’s slippery hand gripped their cocks together and began to jerk them off. Len couldn’t help the gasp that escaped his lips and then Jim was right there, as if to inhale it, his lips hovering over Len’s. Like Len’s mouth was the most tempting treat in the world. Like he couldn’t help himself from trying. And Len gave in again, sticking his tongue into Jim’s mouth sloppily, and tasting him once more. This was supposed to be the last time. But how could he say goodbye to his taste, scent, feel?

            And when Len’s thoughts finally stilled into sensation, Jim broke away enough to whisper roughly, “I need you so bad.”

            And Len almost believed it. Wanted to, in fact. But of course he did. That was the warning of the last truism written on his list of rules:

 

_And if you're under him, you ain't getting over him._

 

            Jim’s fingers teased the tip of Len’s cock, and a shudder ran throughout his body. “Fuck me,” Jim begged, “Fuuuuck.” Abandoning all pretense in the heat of the moment, Len let himself give in, he had come too far to turn around now.

            “Gotta open you up first,” Len groaned, hands searching the covers. “Where’s the--” Jim placed the lube in his hand. “Got a condom?”

            “You, uh, don’t need one…” Jim answered quietly.

            The doctor hesitated, and chose to trust him… Jim knew Len’s sexual standards.

            “Gotta feel you come inside me…” Jim continued.

            Len had to bite his tongue and keep within himself the praises and love he wanted to say, would have said before… instead he took his time tenderly massaging into Jim’s asshole. The first lubed fingertip slipped in more easily than usual, and Len wondered if Jim had fucked someone else earlier, or else fucked himself… or else how long ago that had been. He hadn’t remembered it being this easy.

            “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” Jim murmured, his mouth pressed wet and open against Len’s neck.

            Bones removed the finger, to enter again with two fingers, and when he crooked them just right, applying pressure, Jim bit his neck in an apparent externalization of already unbearable pleasure.

            “I can’t waait,” Jim moaned, and Len wanted to see his face, certain that his pupils would be blown, mouth slack, expression clear of Jim’s usual facades. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about… the way you fill me up and fuck me, make me see stars… It’s all I can think about, but it’s always better than I can remembe **r**.”

            “Jesus, kid.” Len said, adding another finger.

            “No one else does it to me like you do,” Jim continued, voice more quiet, strained.

            Len sighed and pulled three fingers out of Jim, nearly shivering in anticipation of all he was in for. Pleasure, pressure, longing…

            “Jim…” Len began without thinking about it.

            “Yeah?”

            _He doesn’t know you like he says he does, can’t love you like you thought he did… you can’t tell him._

            “Ready?” Len breathed instead of what he wanted to say.

            “Are you fucking serious?”

            Len let his fingers play with the opening to Jim’s hole for good measure, and then lifted Jim into a more accessible position. Jim kept form dutifully. The kid came by his reputation naturally, a regular athlete in the bedroom. And for a while, this had all been Len’s to enjoy, and only his. Well, now he could enjoy him, and that’s all that mattered in the moment. He lined his cock with Jim’s ass, and then Len nearly had whiplash with how quickly Jim gained control of the position, strong thighs lowering himself to sit fully onto Len’s cock.

            “Oh fuuuck,” Jim moaned, tightening slightly around him. And then he lifted himself till he was nearly off of it, and clenched down again, fucking himself at a quickening pace.

            He just looked so pretty, lifting himself over Len’s cock, that Len couldn’t help from saying, “This what you wanted, huh? What you were begging me for?”

            “Yeah,” Jim gasped, followed by moan that sounded a little like: “Booones.”

            “You’re so tight,” Len marvelled. “And warm and deep…”

            “Feels so fuckin good…” and seated fully on Len’s rather large cock, he leaned his torso forward, lapped at Len’s cheek until he reached his mouth, fucked his tongue between Len’s lips-- in and out, counterpoint to the thrusts with which he was fucking himself. And when he gasped for air, he let slip a question that surprised Len to hear, that he almost took for auditory hallucination: “Don’t hate me now, do ya?”

            But Len was pretty sure that was really what he said, and he he dug his fingers into Jim’s hips with bruising force, thrusting his cock even further into the devious bastard.

Jim of course, liked the force, murmuring, “I don’t want you to ever stop… Just keep fucking me, ohh.”

So he did keep fucking Jim. And Jim kept clenching and moving above Len. They worked together so well, sending each other waves of bliss. Bones knew it wouldn't be long for either of them, and ran his hand over Jim's dick, hard and wet between them.

            That's when Jim choked out, “I want you all the fucking time.”

 _You know he doesn’t mean that,_ Len told himself. But his body betrayed him, he shivered and moaned as orgasm struck him, his cum shooting into Jim's ass.

            “Fuck Bones, yeah, fuck you feel so good, you fucked me so good…:” Jim reluctantly slipped off of Bones’ cock, and sat on Len’s hips, jacking himself off before Len’s half shut eyes. Jim began to talk himself to orgasm from this position, starting with, “Yeah, Bones. You fucked me just like I needed, now I feel your fuckin cum dripping out of my open hole…” He lingered on the words as if savoring the feeling. Len’s sleepy fingers found their way behind Jim, to finger at the mess himself. And the pressure to Jim's used ass must have been enough, because after he continued, “Fuck yeah, Jesus Fucking Christ, Bones, you're a fucking--” he cut off into hurried breaths and spilled on Len’s chest.

            “Fuck yeah,” Jim said again, as his orgasm faded, collapsing beside Len on the bed, pressing against him.

            It took all the strength Len could muster to turn away from the pressure of Jim’s body against his. His body had been a comfort for Len for so long, though he now knew it wasn’t right. But he did turn away, curling in on himself slightly, waiting for the telltale signs of Jim dressing and packing up. But the mattress didn’t give, Jim didn’t seem to budge.

            And then there was a tickle on Len’s head, as fingers weaved in and out of his hair. Len jerked away quickly, turning to scowl at his ex-partner.

            “What?”

            “Don’t do that.”

            “What?”

            His scowl deepened. “Don’t touch me.”

            “That’s not what you were saying a few minutes ago…”

            “That was then. _This_ isn’t what I signed up for…”

            “Bones, I’m sorry. I just thought...”

            “What? That I’ll always be there for you to play with?” Len leaned back as far as he could, as if the distance between them might help his point. “We can’t keep doing this. We have to stop.” Len’s tone was cold and decisive.

            “What? No, Bones, no… give me a chance, let me explain.”

            “No, I’m sick of listening to you,” Len’s eyes didn’t quite meet Jim’s, but lingered above his forehead.

            “I don’t understand…”

            “What if I broke your heart? Then would you understand?”

            “You know, I know you didn’t mean to and all… but you did break my heart, too, okay?”

            “Yeah right.”

            “When you gave up on me.”

            Len was speechless at first, but his expression bore surprise and anger. “ _I_ gave up on _you_? Fuck you.”

            “Bones.”

            “Don’t call me that.”

            Jim almost wanted to laugh, but knew that wouldn’t make things any better. “Listen. I’m not saying you were wrong to leave, or that I didn’t get what I had coming… I just want you to understand that I was self-sabotaging at the time, because I, well, I didn’t believe I _could_ do right by you. Didn’t think I deserved… anything you had to offer.”

            “What are you getting at? Afraid I’m not gonna keep coming back to be your fucktoy? Or do you just get off on watching a man suffer? Haven’t I been through enough?” Len’s voice grew quieter, “i woulda done _anything_ for ya, kid. Hell, still would, even when it’s against my better judgement, not to mention The Rules…”

            “What rules?”

            “It don’t matter, you fucking delinquent. Just tell me why the fuck you insist on messing with me”

            Jim bit his lip before answering, “I’ve been wanting to come here, see you, talk to you,... I mean, ask you: Can we try again? I promise to do better. Just… don’t give up on me. I couldn’t live with myself knowing how great we could have been if I hadn’t fucked up so majorly…”

            Bones sighed, bitterly commenting, “We weren’t good enough to make it”

            Jim watched his Bones’ face, tried to catch his gaze with wide blue eyes. “I don’t want to be like we were. I want to be more. What we could be. I don’t know how to do right by you. But I want to. I’ve never done this before… You gotta show me.”

            “Stop… just stop. I know you don’t mean it. You’re being cruel.” The pain was unmistakable in Len’s voice.

            “Bones, I mean it. Every word. Don’t you know I do? I need you…. Don't you too?”

            Len huffed, finally meeting Jim’s eyes, baring himself beyond reason. “I don’t wanna need you this bad… it hurts too much, when you’re gone.”

            Jim’s voice ached, as he began to grasp just what a number he had done on his best friend, “I know I don’t deserve a second chance, I know I did you wrong. But I also know you deserve the chance of what we could be. And I’m willing to try and make it up to you again and again.”

            Hesitantly, Len whispered, “You mean that?

            “As truly as I can, Bones. And I think that’s an awful lot more than you give me credit for. I want this so bad. I’m willing to work at it, because I’ve never needed someone else, not like I need you. And I’ve never wanted anything to work, because I never believed in it. But with you… I believe we can make it. If we have each other. And I know you already have me, cause my life has been hell without you. I don’t know how to do it. But I want to learn. I think you can teach me most of it. And we can learn the rest together… cause Bones… you’re the greatest. You’re the only person who’s ever understood me… Don’t write me off… everyone does that… but that’s not you.”

            “Jim… I don’t know how much more heartbreak a man can take…”

            “I can’t promise it will always be easy. But I promise I’ll always love you.”

            “I… But the way you’ve acted, since… the way you’ve treated me... “

            “I don’t mean it, Bones. Please. I’m so sorry, I… Bones, you know the real me. You know when I’m pretending, don’t you? Please, I need you to know me… I need you to see… I'll do better… please.”

            Len faltered, eyes misty, “Jim… Jimmy…” He searched for truth in Jim’s face, arm reaching out to rest on Jim’s chest. Jim grasped it immediately.

            “Please. You’re more than I ever dreamed I could want… You’re more than I deserve, but you’re all I need. I love you.”

            Len grasped Jim by the back of the neck and looked him square in the eye. “I’m counting on you kid. Here’s my wounded heart, please take care of it.”

            “Oh Bones, Oh I love you!!” Jim lunged towards Bones, knocking him backwards with a kiss, Jim’s top half pinning him to the mattress. “I love you, and I’m gonna show you every day okay? Every way I can figure out how to, I’m gonna let you know that you are cherished, Bones. I will always look after you. I will always love you.”

            Len’s body was still anxious, but his mind began to calm, as he stroked Jim’s hair, saw the truth in his eyes, and kissed him again and again.

 

            “I’d lost hope…” Len admitted, later. “That you were willing to make anything out of this....“

             Jim responded, “I’d kill the motherfucker who broke your heart so bad…. If it weren't me….”

            “Nah I think I’m gonna keep you around, but first we gotta establish some new rules…”

             “Rules?” Jim raised an eyebrow.

            “Yeah, y’know, so we can avoid making the same mistakes again… And Rule Number One? It’s: _Honesty_.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I love talking about Star Trek, so feel free to follow my McKirk blog at dontpander.tumblr.com


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